Slow the fuck down.

This is my movement.

Slow the fuck down. I have to tell myself this now. Mostly because I just don’t have the physical energy to keep up with my brain now, in my 50’s. But I used to. And I exhausted myself more than once doing it. Slow the fuck down. The only thing I can still do as fast as my brain wants it to is type. I can get frantic. I have been frantic. Many times. Or I’ve felt it but you didn’t see it because I am so good at hiding my freneticism. Sometimes I feel it. Like my body wants to be frantic - and I have no reason to be. For many years, my life was frantic whether I wanted it to be that way or not. With eight kids total and usually 4 or 5 or 6 underfoot at any given time, I am used to being busy.

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